Page 40 of The Silent
“How?”
“Controlled. Not ananimal.”
“I don’t think Grigori are animals.” Leo caught himself. “I don’t think thatanymore. Now that I know thetruth.”
“But some of them are.” She said it quietly. A truth none of them wanted to face. “Even Kostas did things he hated himself for. He stopped long ago, because he could see how his behavioraffectedme.”
“You felt it?” Leo’s eyes turnedsharp.
“I felt his hunger. The demand of his need.” How could she explain honestly without condemning those she loved? “Imagine your brothers with no mothers. No fathers who cared. Raising themselves with little or no guidance. Would theyfight?”
Leo smiled. “Constantly.”
“As my brothers did. As some still do. They take what they want because the Fallen tell them the human world is their plunder. Their birthright. Grigori hunt humans because they can. And because we—all of us—are so desperately hungry.” She felt her cheeks warm. “Not for food. Youunderstand?”
“I understand.” Two spots of red rode his cheeks. “Scribes also feel this hunger, even with the control ourtalesmgive us. It’s why we are stronger when we aremated.”
“So youunderstand.”
He reached for her hand and took it, enclosing it between his two large palms. Kyra let out a breath. The effect of Leo’s touch wasinstant.
A torrent of images fell in her mind. Leo with his arms around her during the Battle of Vienna, his presence and touch the only armor against the violence surrounding them. His embrace in Rekaves and the solid wall of his chest at her back. The kiss in the night market. The thrill and the peace of it. When Leo touched her, the voices stopped. She could hear him, clear and resonant, but his voice sang to her. It was like nothing else she’d heard. She’d hungered after peace for two hundred years. With Leo, she felt it. And shecravedit.
“You’re not afraid of me,” Leo said, his lips flushed red. “But youavoidme.”
“I’m not good for you,”shesaid.
“I don’t believe you.” He pressed her hand to his chest. “I see your heart every time we meet. And your soul is beautiful,Kyra.Why—”
“It’s not about my soul.” The futility of her life enraged her. “I may be able to touch you, Leo, but I am not Irina. I don’t have the magic they do. I don’t have the spells. Don’t youunderstand?”
“No!” His blue eyes were wide. “Idon’tunderstand. I don’t care about how much magic you have. I try to get close to you, but every time we meet you leave. The minute the crisis passes, I look for you,butyou—”
“I’m going to die.” She pulled her hand away. “I may not look like it yet, Leo, but Iamold.”
He frowned. “You’re no older thanIam.”
“You have no idea.” She shookherhead.
“So explain it to me,” Leo said, his voice growing harder. “As far as I know, we are the same age. So explain why that is the reason you keep me at arm’s length when I want to knowyoumore.”
She reached out and ran a finger along one of his tattoos, ignoring the subtle glow her touch created on his skin. It was so beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Every dark line was a mark he’d given himself. Each piece of magic on his skin grew from an ancient tradition she had no part in. The Irina may have said they wanted to help her, but not a single one trusted her enough to teach her the spell that would saveherlife.
“Which one does it?” she asked quietly. She traced a twisting line that led from his right wrist up to the tender skin at the crook of hiselbow.
Leo’s voice wasrough. “What?”
“Which one prolongs your life?” she asked. She forced her eyes to meet his. “Which one makes you immortal? Which spell makestimestop?”
The dawning realization in his eyes gave her nosatisfaction.
“No,”hesaid.
“I’ve already lived far longer than any otherkareshtaI’ve known. I should have died decades ago, but Jaron was feeding Kostas and me his energy. Now he’sgone,and—”
“No!” Leo shouted. “I don’t know the Irina spell, but I know the Irin spell. I can draw it on you. If wemated—”
“For life?” She shook her head. “The Irin mate for life, Leo. That’s not fair to you. And Iwon’t—”
